891. 72. 

So4hE 


NO  PLAYS  EXCHANGED 


Edition 


Walter  iEbaher  &  cg 


COPYRIGHT,  1*89,  BY  WALTER  H,  BAKER  &  CO 


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VI 


A.  W.  PINERO’S  PLAYS 

Uniformly  Bound  in  Stiff  Paper  Covers, 

Price,  50  cents  each. 


The  publication  of  the  plays  of  tbis  popular  author,  made  feasible  by  the  ne 
Copyright  Act,  under  which  his  valuable  stage  rights  can  be  fully  probeite 
enables  us  to  offer  to  amateur  actors  a  series  of  modern  pieces  of  the  liigne 
class,  all  of  which  have  met  with  distinguished  success  in  the  leading  Engjlis 
and  American  theatres,  and  most  of  which  are  singularly  well  adapted  for  am 
teur  performance.  This  publication  was  originally  intended  for  the  benefit 
readers  only,  but  the  increasing  demand  for  the  plays  for  acting  purpose's  '1 
far  outrun  tlieir  merely  literary  success.  With  the  Idea  of  placing  this  exci 
lent  series  within  the  reach  gf  the  largest  possible  number  of  amateur  club  s,  ,v 
have  obtained  authority  to  "offer  them  for  acting  purposes  at  an  author’s  ro 
alty  of 

Ten  Dollars  for  Each  Performance. 

This  rate  does  not  apply  to  professional  performances,  for  which  terms  wi|lf ' 
made  known  on  application. 


THE  AMAZONS. 


A  Farcical  Romance  in  Three  Acts.  By  Artt  ft 
W.  Pinero.  Seven  male  and  five  female  c  fi? 

1  1  1  1  -  acters.  Costumes,  modern;  scenery,  an  extejn 

and  an  interior,  not  at  all  difficult.  This  admirable  farce  is  too  well  knc  n 
through  its  recent  performance  by  the  Lyceum  Theatre  Company,  New  York  , 


need  description, 
colleges.  (1895.) 


It  is  especially  recommended  to  young  ladies’  schools 


THE  CABINET  MINISTER. 


Costumes,  modern  society  ;  scenery 
genious  in  construction,  and  brilliant  in  dialogue. 


A  Farce  in  Four  Acts 
Arthur  W.  Pinero.  Ten 
and  nine  female  chariu 
three  interiors.  A  very  amusing  pie<i 
(1892.) 


'•  \ 
n  m;l 

iw  '  /j 


DANDY  DICK. 


A  Farce  in  Three  Acts.  By  Arthur  W.  Pif  t 
Seven  male,  four  female  characters.  Costumes,  - 
ern  ;  scenery,  two  interiors.  This  very  amusing  € 
was  another  success  in  the  New  York  and  Boston  theatres,  and  has  bee  < 
tensively  played  from  manuscript  by  amateurs,  for  whom  it  is  in  every  rc  >< 
suited.  It  provides  an  unusual  number  of  capital  character  parts,  is  very  f  1 
and  an  excellent  acting  piece.  Plays  two  hours  and  a  half.  (1893.) 


THE  HOBBY  HORSE. 


A  Comedy  in  Three  Acts.  By  Al 
W.  Pinero.  Ten  male,  five  female 
acters.  Scenery,  two  interiors  and 
terior ;  costumes,  modern.  This  piece  is  best  known  in  this  oountry  throu 
admirable  performance  of  Mr.  John  Hare,  who  produced  it  in. all  the  prij 
cities.  Its  story  presents  a  clever  satire  of  false  philanthropy,  and  is  fi 
interest  and  humor.  Well  adapted  for  amateurs,  by  whom  it  has  been  sue 
fully  acted.  Plays  two  hours  and  a  half.  (1892.) 


LADY  BOUNTIFUL. 


A  Play  in  Four  Acts.  By  Arth’ur 
Pinero.  Eight  male  and  seven  female  c 
acters.  Costumes,  modern ;  scenery,  t 
interiors,  not  easy.  A  play  of  powerful  sympathetic  interest,  a  little  sombre 
key,  but  not  unrelieved  by  humorous  touches.  (1892.) 


HIS  HAT  AND  CANE 


&  Comrty  hi  ©itc  Set 


BY 

COUNT  W.  SOLLOHUB 

Author  of  “The  Serenade” 


TRANSLATED  BY  MEMBERS  OF  THE 

BELLEVUE  DRAMATIC  CLUB 

OF  NEWPORT 


% 


BOSTON 

WALTER  H.  BAKER  &  CO. 

1902 


Copyright,  1878,  by  Henry  Holt  &  Co. 


NOTE. 

There  is  no  change  of  scenery  in  these  plays.  The 
division  of  the  text  into  “  scenes  ”  merely  follows  the  French 
literary  custom,  and  indicates  no  interruption  of  the  action 
whatever.  The  stage  is  set  to  represent  an  interior,  but  no 
scenery  is  actually  necessary. 


HIS  HAT  AND  CANE. 


BY  COUNT  W.  SOLLOHUB. 


CHARACTERS. 

Madame  Danisheff,  a  Young  Widow. 

Colonel  Henri  de  Berard,  35  years  of  age. 
Marquis  de  Santa-Flora,  70  years  of  age. 

The  Vicomte  de  Barbebiche,  22  years  of  age. 
Victorine,  a  Servant. 

The  scene  represents  the  i?iterior  of  a  villa  near  Monaco 

SCENE  I. 

Victorine — The  Marquis. 

Victorine  arranging  the  room.  The  Marquis  appears 
with  a  large  bouquet  in  his  hand. 

Marquis.  I  ask  pardon  if  I  do  so  incommode.  [ Look 
of  admiration  and  surprise .]  Oh  !  holy  Madonna, 
how  she  is  beautiful  ! . .  .  What  age  have  you,  my 
dear  ? 

Victorine.  Me  ?  about  the  age  of  your  grand¬ 
daughter  ! 

Marquis.  Ah  !  how  she  is  wicked  ! 


3 


4 


PLAYS  POP  PPL  PA  TP  ACTING. 


Victorine.  What  do  you  want  here  ? 

Marquis.  What  I  do  want  ?  I  have  forgot .  .  .  Ah !  I 
do  remember.  Tell  me,  it  is  here  where  lives  that 
magnific  donna  Roussa,  or  Polonesa,  or  of  Herzego¬ 
vina — -I  do  not  know  exactly — always  alone --the  un¬ 
fortunate — always  alone.  Favor  me  to  give  her  my 
card.  Here  !  take  ! — The  Marquis  of  Santa-Flora, 
of  the  princes  of  the  Casabianca,  and  tell  to  her  that 
if  she  would  have  need  of  the  protection  of  one  man 
well  known,  I  will  place  my  candidature,  as  they  say 
in  France — here  is  twenty  francs  for  you.  [  Victorine 
takes  the  bouquet  and  money :  the  Vicomte  enters  sud¬ 
denly,  with  bouquet  in  hand — he  turns  quickly  to  the  wall , 
and  looks  at  pictures. \  Oh  !  Lord  !  one  young  man  ! 


SCENE  II. 

The  same — The  Vicomte. 

Vicomte  \speaking  very  quickly\.  This  is  the  place 
. .  .Young  lady,  your  parents  live  at  San  Remo!  your 
name  is  Victorine  ;  you  have  been  for  the  last  eight 
days  in  the  service  of  a  lady  who  calls  herself 
Madame  Danisheff,  a  high-sounding  Russian  name, 
which  has  never  existed  and  which  she  has  invented 
.  .  .  It’s  suspicious,  very  suspicious  ;  but  I  don’t  care 
for  that — she  is  charming,  I  am  charming,  we  are 
both  charming — we  were  made  to  know  each  other. 
You  will  go  immediately  and  give  her  this  little 
bunch  of  flowers,  and  the  serpent  which  is  hidden  in 


HIS  HAT  AND  CANE. 


5 


it.  My  card  !  the  Vicomte  de  Barbebiche,  whom 
the  envious  call  “  the  woman-killer  ;  ”  but  whom  wo¬ 
men  of  taste  proclaim  the  most  bewitching  fellow  in 
that  world  called  Paris — and  take  this  twenty-franc 
piece,  too,  the  last  relic  of  the  great  battle  which 
took  place  this  morning  on  the  heights  of  Monte 
Carlo.  Go  !  go  !  go  ! 

Victorine.  I  should  like  nothing  better  than  to  car¬ 
ry  your  cards  and  bouquets. .  .Only,  I  am  sure  to  be 
scolded.  My  mistress  has  forbidden  me  to  let  any 
strangers  in,  or  to  receive  anything  from  them. 

Vicomte.  Have  you  finished  ? 

Victorine.  Bah  !  forty  francs  for  being  scolded . .  . 
it’s  worth  that,  I’ll  go.  [Exit. 

Marquis.  Bravo!  Vicomte.  [They  shake  hands.] 


SCENE  III. 

The  Marquis — The  Vicomte. 

Vicomte.  Marquis  !  sure  to  find  you  when  there  is 
a  pretty  woman  about.  Decidedly  you  spoil  the 
profession  for  us. 

Marquis.  My  dear  friend  ...  it  is  not  a  profession, 
it  is  a  habitude  I  have  for  sixty  years.  For  us  Ital¬ 
ians,  it  is  necessary  only  three  things  . . .  the  sun  . . . 
the  music  . . .  and  the  society  of  women.  1 

Vicomte.  What  could  you  want  more  ? 

Marquis.  Have  you  been  at  the  tir  yesterday  ? 

Vicomte.  Don’t  speak  of  it — covered  with  dis- 


6 


PLAYS  POP  PRIVATE  ACTING. 


grace.  Out  of  twelve  pigeons,  I  only  touched  two  , 
and  the  second  wasn’t  sure. 

Marquis.  How  was  that  ? 

Vicomte.  Thanks  to  an  accident  to  my  carriage, 
which  caused  my  hand  to  tremble. 

Marquis.  And  where  do  you  lodge,  my  friend  ? 

Vicomte.  I  don’t  lodge . . .  I  haven’t  the  time  to 
lodge ...  I  circulate. 

Marquis.  On  the  railway  ? 

Vicomte.  Certainly  . . .  How  can  I  help  it  !  Juli¬ 
ette  from  the  Vaudeville  lives  at  Cannes . . .  The  pretty 
Hungarian  Countess  at  Antibes .  . .  Lady  Boswell  is 
at  Nice. . .  Madame  Danisheff  is  here  at  Monaco.  . . 
At  San  Carlo  there  is  the  gaming-table . . .  The  charm¬ 
ing  Rovanoff  girls  are  at  Menton.  I  am  obliged, 
you  know,  to  see  all  these  people  every  day ...  I  am 
used  up — I  am  turning  into  a  locomotive. 

Marquis.  It  is  true  !  Nice  is  no  more  as  it  was - 

Vicomte.  Then  again  there  are  the  excursions... 
the  promenades ...  I  have  been  taken  three  times  to 
Saint  Raphael  to  see  that  curious  hermit,  who  at¬ 
tracts  more  attention  in  his  solitude  than  his  more 
sociable  brethren. 

Marquis.  And  how  does  the  play  treat  you,  my 
dear  friend  ? 

Vicomte.  Me  !  I  am  a  pigeon,  and  only  second- 
rate  amongst  this  feathered  tribe  .  .  .  my  only  consola¬ 
tion  is  that  the  gaming-table  has  taught  me  policy  .  .  . 

Marquis.  How  is  that  ? 

Vicomte.  You  observe,  at  the  table,  some  see 
everything  too  much  in  a  red  light  ;  others  in  a  black 


HIS  HAT  AND  CANE. 


7 


.  .  .  now  the  wisest  plan  is  to  guess  the  intermission.* 
But  that  is  not  my  disposition. 

Marquis.  Bravo  !  These  are  calembours  that  you 
say . .  . 

Vicomte.  No  ;  they  are  philosophic  ideas  which 
suggest  themselves  to  me  in  the  railway,  when  there 
is  no  pretty  woman  in  the  same  carriage  with  me  to 
distract  my  attention  .  .  .  But  talking  of  pretty  wo¬ 
men  .  . .  Do  you  know  the  one  who  lives  here  ? 

Marquis.  Not  at  all.  And  you  ? 

Vicomte.  Not  the  least  in  the  world  .  . .  What  do 
you  think  of  her  ? 

Marquis  Adorable,  my  dear.„ 

Vicomte.  Neither  husband,  nor  father,  nor  uncle, 
nor  companion — none  of  the  strict  indispensables — 

Marquis.  But  she  does  not  seek  to  make  the  ac¬ 
quaintances — 

Vicomte.  Ah  !  my  dear  Marquis,  we  Parisians  are 
not  taken  in  by  such  tricks  ;  that’s  to  make  her¬ 
self  sought  after — to  give  piquancy  to  the  affair.  It 
is  as  of  old — Atalanta,  who  only  ran  fast  enough  to 
keep  her  lovers  in  pursuit.  She  is  cunning. 

Marquis  \after  deep  thought ].  Perhaps - 

Vicomte  [seeing  Victorine ,  who  comes  hack  with  bou¬ 
quets ].  By  Jupiter!  ...Here  come  our  bouquets, 
which  have  made  a  journey  there  and  back. 

Marquis.  Oh,  she  has  grief,  La  Beilina. 


*  Term  used  at  the  Rouge  et  Noir  table. 


8 


FLAYS  FOR  PRIVATE  ACTING. 


SCENE  IV. 

The  same — Victorine. 

\ 

Victorine  [with  a  bouquet  in  each  hand,  crying].  Hi  ! 
hi  !  hi  !  !  My  mistress  says  [ crying ]  that  if  you  don’t 
let  her  alone  she  will  complain  to  the  police  of  Mo¬ 
naco  | crying],  and  then  she  [crying]  has  sent  me 
away.  There,  take  your  nasty  flowers  and  go  away 
quick.  [ Crying.  ]  [ She  gives  the  florae rs  to  the  wrong 

person.  \ 

Marquis.  But  this  is  not  my  bouquet.  For  shame  ! 
the  stupid,  he  sent  one  bouquet  of  camellias.  It  is 
an  injure.  She  has  the  reason  to  be  angry.  Give 
me  back  my  violets  and  my  rosebuds  . . .  with  the 
women  it  is  necessair  to  be  always  delicate.  I  will 
come  back  alone  .  .  .Ha  !  ha  !  we  will  see  .  .  .We 
will  see  again.  Addio,  Vicomte.  \Exit. 


SCENE  V. 

Victorine — The  Vicomte. 

Vicomte.  How  the  devil  could  I  have  been  so 
idiotic  as  to  send  my  bouquet  with  that  of  this  ante- 
deluvian  doge  ?  Accepting  one,  she  had  to  accept 
both.  Ah  !  you  are  playing  a  great  game,  madame. 
Well,  I  won’t  acknowledge  myself  beaten.  I  will 
return  alone  and  will  play  the  grand  role  of  the 
poet  Saint  Martin.  [  To  Victorine.]  I  hope  you  won’t 
bear  me  ill  will.  I  will  make  it  up  to  you.  [Exit. 


HIS  HAT  AND  CANE. 


9 


SCENE  VI. 

Victorine,  alone. 

Victorine  \crying\.  Oh,  how  unhappy  I  am  !  My 
parents  think  that  I  am  at  San  Remo  making  my 
fortune  ;  and  here  I  am  turned  out  in  the  street  with 
two  Napoleons. .  .What  am  I  to  do  ?  Nothing  ...  I 
know  !  I’ll  give  these  two  twenty- franc  pieces  to  my 
cousin  to  put  upon  number  32 — the  number  that 
always  wins.  That  will  make  me  a  million  !  No  ! 
that  won’t  make  a  million,  a  little  less,  I  expect.  A 
great  deal  less.  Never  mind ...  I  will  marry  my 
cousin,  and  we  will  open  a  hotel  at  Nice  and  fleece 
the  strangers. 


SCENE  VII. 

Victorine— Madame  Danisheff. 

Madame  D.  [enters].  I  have  written  to  Nice  to  have 
a  lady’s  maid  sent  to  me.  As  soon  as  she  arrives 
you  will  leave  the  house. 

Victorine.  Oh,  madame,  I  beg  of  you . .  .  forgive  me 
this  time  . . . 

✓ 

Madame.  So  that  you  may  go  on  bringing  notes 
and  bouquets  to  me,  eh  ?  What  do  they  take  me 
for  ?  They  won’t  let  me  be  at  peace  for  one 
moment,  but  persecute  me  by  sending  all  sorts  of 
silly  protestations,  because  I  am  alone  and  have  no 
protector. 


IO 


I3 LA  VS  FOR  PRIVATE  ACTING. 


Victorine.  And  do  you  really  wish  to  be  quiet  ? 

Madame.  Why,  certainly  I  do. 

Victorine.  I  did  not  think  that  you  really  wanted 
to  live  without  seeing  any  one  ;  such  a  thing  is  never 
done  here.  Well,  madame,  I  have  a  talisman  ;  if  you 
will  use  it,  no  one  will  dare  to  say  a  word  that  can 
offend  you.  Will  you  forgive  me  if  I  get  rid  of  your 
persecutors  altogether  ? 

Madame.  I  will  forgive  you  and  thank  you  with  all 
my  heart. 

Victorine.  Then  I’ll  go  and  get  it.  [Exit. 


SCENE  VIII. 

Madame  Danisheff,  alone. 

Madame.  My  position  is  most  intolerable  .  .  .  Henri 
insisted  so  strongly  that  we  should  be  alone  when  he 
returned  from  Egypt.  Dear  fellow  !  He  has  loved 
me  ever  since  I  was  a  little  girl  ;  he  ran  away  when 
my  parents  married  me  to  the  man  of  their  choice — 
and  now  I  am  free.  He  is  coming  back  in  a  week, 
in  the  midst  of  these  persecutions — it  is  terrible. 


SCENE  IX. 

Madame  Danisheff — Victorine. 

Victorine  [ enters  with  mails  hat  and  cane].  Here 
they  are,  madame. 

Madame.  What  does  this  mean  ? 


HIS  HAT  AND  CANE. 

I  I 

Victorine.  These,  madame,  are  the  hat  and  cane 
belonging  to  the  porter.  He  is  very  elegant  when  he 
puts  them  on  to  go  to  Nice. 

Madame.  But  what  do  you  bring  them  here  for  ? 

Victorine.  They  are  your  protectors.  We  will  put 
them  in  a  conspicuous  place  ...  on  the  sofa  .  . .  when 
some  impudent  fellow  comes,  he  will  see  first  the 
hat,  which  will  make  him  feel  disagreeable,  and  then 
he  will  see  the  cane,  which  will  make  him  feel  worse 
. .  .  and  he  won’t  come  again. 

Madame.  What  nonsense  ! 

Victorine.  Oh,  madame,  I  beg  of  you  to  try  my  tal¬ 
isman.  Look,  there  is  the  old  Marquis  peering  round 
the  house.  Let  him  come  in.  He’ll  turn  himself 
out  very  quickly.  I’ll  answer  for  it  with  my  head. 
Let  me  call  him — you  will  see.  Come  in,  sir. 


SCENE  X. 

The  same — The  Marquis. 

Marquis  [coming  in\.  Oh,  beautiful  of  my  soul,  I 
know  you  refused  to  see  me  because  that  stupid  little 
Frenchman  was  here.  I  will  be  protector  to  you, 
serio .  .  .  Here  are  flowers,  my  diva,  which  are  not  so 
beautiful  as  you. 

Madame.  Victorine,  put  this  bouquet  in  that  vase. 
...Sit  down  Marquis,  on  the  sofa... You  will  find 
it  very  comfortable. 

4 


u.  c.  u,ti‘ 


12 


PLAYS  POP  PRIVATE  ACTING. 


Marquis  [seeing  hat  and  cane].  Oh  diavolo !  what 
ees  it — that  ! 

Victorine.  Never  mind  them,  they  belong  to  Mon¬ 
sieur. 

Marquis,  [aside].  What!  I  did  not  know  that  there 
was.  ..At  my  years,  in  my  position  I  will  not  that  I 
am  compromise.  [Aloud.  ]  Oh  !  I  demand  of  you 
one  thousand  pardons,  madame.  I  only  wish  to 
inform  myself  if  there  was  an  appar-te-ment  to  rent, 
for  my  friend  the  Minister  of  Portugal. 

Madame.  No,  sir,  there  is  not. 

Marquis.  Then  it  is  to  next  door  I  run.  The 
Minister  arrives  to-morrow.  I  hope  again  to  see 
you .  . . 

Madame.  As  you  please,  sir. 

Marquis  [makes  low  bows ,  and  retires  precipitately  j 
in  going  out  he  runs  against  the  Vicomte\  My  dear, 
she  is  charming. 


SCENE  XI. 

The  Vicomte — Madame  Danisheff — Victorine.- 

Vicomte.  Madame,  turn  me  out  of  doors,  I  will 
come  back  by  the  window  ;  throw  me  out  of  the 
window,  I  will  come  back  by  the  chimney.  Have 
pity  on  me,  I  can’t  sleep,  I  never  eat  anything,  I 
scarcely  live.  A  fatal  passion  has  taken  possession  of 
my  soul,  which  absorbs  all  my  being,  will  end  but 
with  my  life  !  Here  are  some  flowers. 


HIS  HAT  AND  CANE. 


13 

Madame.  Victorine,  put  this  bouquet  at  the  side  of 
the  other.  Pray  sit  down,  sir. 

Vicomte.  Sit  down  !  Never  !  I  cast  myself  at  your 
adorable  feet  and  swear  to  live  but  for  you.  [On  one 
knee.]  Oh  !  madame,  if  you  could  understand  . . . 

Victorine  [taking  him  by  the  shoulder].  Why  don’t 
you  take  a  seat  ?  when  madame  tells  you .  . . 

Vicomte.  Since  you  insist  upon  it.  [He  turns  on  his 
knee ,  sees  the  hat  and  cane ,  and  jumps  suddenly  to  his 
feet.]  Heavens  !  there  is  a  garrison  in  the  place,  .  . 
[Aside. ]  That’s  not  at  all  the  thing.  I  shall  be 
turned  into  ridicule.  The  whole  town  will  laugh  at 
me.  [Aloud.]  Excuse  me  !  but  to  whom  do  these 
utensils  belong  ? 

Victorine.  The  hat  and  cane  belong  to  Monsieur . . . 

Vicomte.  Oh  !  the  cane  belonging — I  was  just 
about  to  ask  the  honor  of  an  introduction,  madame 
. . .  [. Looking  at  his  watchl]  But  what  have  I  done  ? 
I  shall  be  late  for  the  train.  I  am  obliged  to  go  to 
Menton ...  I  lead  such  a  busy  life  that  every  mo¬ 
ment  . . .  you  understand . . . 

Madame  [laughing] .  Don’t  let  me  keep  you,  I 
beg. 

Vicomte  [aside].  She  is  laughing  at  me — well 
played.  [Aloud.]  Do  you  take  long  walks,  madame  ? 

Madame.  Yes,  sir. 

Vicomte.  And  always  alone  ? 

Madame.  Always  alone. 

Vicomte.  You  cannot  find  that  very  amusing? 

Madame.  Much  more  so  than  being  bored  by  a 
companion. 


14 


PLAYS  FOR  PRIVATE  ACTING. 


Vicomte  [aside].  She  is  very  clever.  I  have  a 
strong  desire  to  throw  that  hat  and  cane  to  the 
devil  and  take  their  place.  [Aloud.]  May  I  hope, 
madame,  to  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  again  ? 

Madame.  Not  very  soon,  sir,  I  have  something  else 
to  do. 

Vicomte.  I  will  wait.  [Aside. \  She  is  charming. 
[Aloud.]  Madame  \_makes  low  bow  and  exit\. 


SCENE  XII. 

Madame  Danisheff — Victorine. 

Victorine.  Well  !  madame,  what  do  you  say  ? 

Madame  How  dishonorable,  inconstant  and  stupid 
men  are.  .  .Not  all,  happily.  [  To  Victorine.}  Thank 
you,  Victorine,  you  shall  stay.  If  a  letter  should 
come,  you  will  find  me  on  the  terrace.  [Exit. 

Victorine.  My  cousin  taught  me  that  trick.  It 
always  succeeds.  [Sees  Henri  approaching .]  There 
is  the  third . . . 


SCENE  XIII. 

Victorine,  afterward  Henri. 

Henri  [coming  in].  Is  Madame  Danisheff  at 
home  ? 

Victorine.  Madame  is  engaged. 

Henri.  Take  her  this  card.  She  expects  me  . .  . 
Victorine  [takes  card  and  exit]. 


HIS  HAT  AND  CANE. 


J5' 

Henri  [alone].  At  last.  Three  years  of  suspense, 
of  patience,  of  agony,  of  martyrdom,  are  no  more 
than  a  nightmare.  I  shall  now  know  what  hap¬ 
piness  is . .  .  What  a  strange  sensation  !  My  feet  on 
the  earth  but  my  soul  in  the  skies,  where  space  ex¬ 
ists  no  more,  where  time  is  stationary,  where  there 
is  nothing  but  love — love,  the  source  and  end  of  all 
things . . .  Oh  !  how  beautiful  existence  is  !  How 
happy  I  am,  that  I  have  kept  my  heart  free  from 
the  taints  of  a  dissipated  life.  She  wrote  me  three 
months  ago,  “  Everything,  will  be  ready,  the  papers, 
the  bans . .  .  three  days  after  your  arrival  at  Monaco, 
we  will  go  to  the  church,  and  I  will  be  your  wife.” 
She,  my  wife,  my  only  love  ;  the  love,  without 
hope,  of  all  my  life.  Who  was  that  fool  who  said, 
“  Supreme  felicity  does  not  exist  on  the  earth  ”  ?  It 
is  here  that  she  has  come  to  wait  for  me. . .  here, 
everything  speaks  to  me  of  her. 


SCENE  XIV. 

Henri — Victorine. 

Victorine  [ running  in].  Madame  will  be  here  im¬ 
mediately  ;  she  is  arranging  her  hair. 

Henri.  What  !  she  thinks  of  her  hair  at  such  a 
moment  ?  [He  sees  hat  and  cane.]  A  hat  and  cane 
here  ! . . .  [ Rushes  over  to  Victorine ,  bringing  her  to 
sofa.]  What  is  the  meaning  of  that  ? 

Victorine.  What  ? 

Henri.  That  ! 


j5  plays  fop  private  acting. 

Victorine.  That  ?  Why,  the  hat  and  cane  of  Mon¬ 
sieur. 

Henri.  To  whom  do  they  belong  ? 

Victorine.  To  whom  ?  to  Monsieur. 

Henri.  To  what  Monsieur? 

Victorine.  Don’t  you  know  that  wherever  there  is 
a  pretty  woman  there  is  always  a  Monsieur  ?  always  ! 

Henri  \aside J.  She  has  deceived  me.  How  could 
she  so  lower  herself.  I  thought  her  an  angel .  . .  She 
is  but  a  woman,  after  all .  .  .they  are  all  alike. .  .weak 
and  frivolous — I  shall  not  survive  it.  There  is  one 
advantage  in  life,  you  can  easily  get  rid  of  it . .  . 
[Aloud Is  the  sea  near  here  ? 

Victorine.  Very  near,  sir;  take  the  road  to  the 
right.  [Exit. 


SCENE  XV, 

Henri,  alone. 

Henri.  She  is  married,  or  going  to  be  married . . . 
Any  other  supposition  would  be  impossible.  Yes  ! 
her  pride  alone  would  save  her ,  . .  But  I  have  my 
pride.  My  whole  life  has  been  one  of  pride  and  de¬ 
votion.  .  .If  I  destroy  myself,  I  leave  her  eternal  re¬ 
morse.  .  .Ah,  I  love  her  too  much  to  punish  her — I 
will  even  spare  her  the  shame  of  confessing  her  treach¬ 
ery  ...  I  have  never  trembled  when  in  deadly  peril  on 
the  sea — I  have  never  trembled  when  I  fought  my 
way  through  showers  of  bullets  on  the  field  of  battle . . . 
but  I  tremble  now,  because  a  woman  has  deceived 
me .  . . 


HIS  HAT  AND  CANE. 


17 


SCENE  XVI. 

Henri — Madame  Danisheff. 

Madame  \ coming  in\.  Is  it  you  ?  Is  it  really  you  ? 

Henri  [crying  out].  Soph .  .  .  \recollccting  himself  \ 
It  is  indeed,  my  dear  madame.  As  I  was  passing 
through  Monaco,  I  stopped  to  pay  my  respects  to 
you. 

Madame  \surprised\.  Passing  through  ? 

Henri.  You  know  I  always  had  an  inclination  foi 
a  dissipated  life — but  I  never  had  the  leisure  to  in¬ 
dulge  it.  Now  I  am  going  to  make  up  for  lost  time. 
I  am  a  gambler  at  heart.  I  want  to  break  the  bank 
at  Monte  Carlo.  They  say  it  is  impossible  ;  but  as 
the  impossible  has  always  tempted  me,  I  shall  try  it. 

Madame.  Why  this  sudden  excitement  ?  Are  you 
in  trouble  ? 

Henri.  Oh  !  I  have  wandered  about  the  world  too 
much  to  be  troubled  or  astonished  at  anything — - 
anything  !  You  have  a  large  society  at  Monaco  ? 

Madame.  You  used  to  be  very  quiet  when  I  knew 
you  before. 

Henri.  On  the  contrary,  I  was  very  frivolous  and 
gay — at  heart.  Now  I  show  my  nature.  You  see 
travel  forms  one — sometimes  it  deforms.  [Aside.] 
My  God  !  she  is  more  beautiful  than  ever. 

Madame.  But  will  you  not  sit  down  ?  You  must 
be  tired. 

Henri.  You  are  right ;  I  am  almost  dead  with  fa¬ 
tigue — I  think  I  never  shall  feel  at  rest  again. 

Madame.  You  arrived  this  morning? 


Tg  plays  for  private  acting. 

Henri.  This  morning ...  No.  That  is  to  say— 
Yes. .  .1  arrived  two  days  ago,  I  think.  [Laughing.] 
By  the  by,  I  haven’t  told  you  the  delightful  adven¬ 
ture  I  had ...  I  am  married. 

Madame  [jumping  up  from  her  seat].  You,  mar¬ 
ried  ! 

Henri.  I  am,  indeed.  ♦  Why  do  Englishmen  have 
such  a  mania  for  traveling  ?  And  if  it  was  only 
English  men,  but  there  are  the  English  women. 

Madame.  You  have  married  an  English  woman  ? 

Henri.  Yes  !  I  believe  there  is  not  a  Frenchman 
in  the  world  who  has  not  at  one  time  in  his  life  been 
tempted  to  marry  an  English  woman.  I. .  .as  many 
others  have  done . .  . 

Madame.  What  is  her  name  ? 

Henri.  Whose  ? 

Madame.  Why,  your  wife’s  ? 

Henri.  Her  name  ?  My  wife’s  ?  Oh  ! — Sarah. 

Madame.  A  very  pretty  name. 

Henri.  Isn’t  it  ? 

Madame.  Does  she  speak  French  well  ? 

Henri.  Not  badly.  Although  she  has  a  strong  ac¬ 
cent.  But  I  have  assured  Fanny  that  she  will  soon 
get  rid  of  it. 

Madame.  But  you  said  her  name  was  Sarah . .  . 

Henri.  Yes,  certainly  !  That  is  her  name  to  the 
world.  But  at  home,  we  call  her  Fanny  ;  it’s  more 
familiar — and  then,  you  know,  the  English  have  a 
great  many  names . .  .  Why,  Constantinople  is  one  of 
her  names,  given  to  her  because  her  parents  resided 
in  that  town  some  time. 


HIS  HAT  AND  CANE. 


19 

Madame.  And  was  it  there  you  became  acquainted 
with  her  ? 

Henri.  No,  it  was  at  Cairo. 

Madame.  Lately  ? 

Henri.  Not  very  long  ago. 

Madame.  How  did  you  become  acquainted  with 
her  ? 

Henri.  You  wish  to  know  ? 

Madame.  Very  much. 

Henri.  Well,  it  is  a  sort  of  thing  which  happens 
every  day.  I  went  to  see  the  Pyramids,  near  one  of 
which  there  is  a  large  head,  with  a  broken  nose.  It 
was  amongst  the  Pyramids.  I  was  traveling  with  a 
man  whom  I  had  met  everywhere.  He  wore  a  gray 
suit  of  clothes,  a  gray  hat,  and  gray  beard — on  his 
hat  a  green  veil.  He  wore  all  his  beard,  but  no 
mustache ...  I  thought  at  first  he  was  an  American. 
But  I  found  out  he  was  English. 

Madame.  It  was  the  father  ? 

Henri.  I  beg  your  pardon,  madame ...  It  was  the 
uncle  ;  the  father  and  mother,  worn  out  with  travel¬ 
ing,  were  recruiting  their  strength  in  Yorkshire. 

Madame.  Oh  ! 

Henri.  A  very  good  fellow,  but  eccentric.  He 
had  his  pockets  full  of  Bradshaw’s  and  other  guide¬ 
books,  on  which  he  verified  with  a  pencil,  like  an 
appraiser,  every  place  indicated. 

Madame.  Didn’t  he  bore  you  ? 

Henri.  Not  at  all. 

Madame.  And  the  niece  was  pretty  ? 


20 


FLAYS  FOR  PRIVATE  ACTING. 


Henri.  Very  pretty ...  Eyes  like  transparent  tur¬ 
quoises  . .  .  Complexion  like  strawberries  and  cream. 

Madame.  And  blonde,  naturally  ?  , 

Henri.  Decidedly — I  discovered  a  new  sensation. 
I  found  that  I  was  born  for  blondes,  even  pale 
blondes — Marguerite,  Ophelia.  The  brunette  is  ex¬ 
acting,  the  blonde  is  caressing.  The  brunette  de¬ 
mands  your  assistance,  the  blonde  implores  it. 
Sarah — Fanny,  I  should  say — had  a  horrible  fear  of 
crocodiles,  and  begged  me  to  show  her  one. .  .Now, 
you  understand,  that  when  in  going  from  one  Pyra¬ 
mid  to  another,  a  young  blonde,  with  the  name  Con¬ 
stantinople,  asks  you  for  crocodiles  in  those  deserts, 
where  there  are  camels,  giraffes,  dervishes,  hippo¬ 
potamuses,  you  lose  your  head.  You  don’t  know 
what  you  are  talking  about . .  .  Oh  !  I  am  choking  ! 
[He  rises.]  Good-by,  madame.  [Silence.] 

Madame.  You  go  back  to  Nice  ? 

Henri.  Yes. 

Madame.  To  your  wife  ? 

Henri.  Yes. 

Madame.  Do  you  stay  long  there  ? 

Henri.  I  don’t  think  so . .  .  My  wife  says  that  there 
are  too  many  people  at  Nice.  I  think  we  shall  leave 
there  this  evening. 

Madame.  Where  do  you  go  ? 

Henri.  I  don’t  know,  exactly — to  the  north  or  to 
the  south.  .  .Anywhere,  just  as  she  wishes. 

Madame.  That’s  very  natural  . .  .Well,  I  wish  you 
a  pleasant  journey. 


IIIS  HAT  AND  CANE. 


21 


Henri  \with  great  excitement\.  Oh  !  let  me  look 
at  you  once  more  ! 

Madame.  Leave  me,  sir.  Never  enter  my  presence 
again. 

Henri.  May  you  never  regret  this,  madame  ! 
[ Goes  out  quickly.  Madame  D.  falls  into  chair  and 
bursts  into  tears. \ 


SCENE  XVII. 

Madame  Danisheff — then  Victorine. 

Madame.  My  God  !  my  God  !  all  is  over  for 
me — it  will  kill  me...  But  what  will  people  say? 
what  will  he  think  ?  That  his  desertion  has  caused 
my  death. .  .No  !  he  shall  never  know  what  I  suffer 
— Death,  yes  !  but  humiliation,  never.  [She  rings. 
To  Victorine ,  who  enters.  J  Victorine,  get  out  my  dia¬ 
monds,  and  a  handsome  walking  suit.  Are  my  per¬ 
secutors  still  there  ? 

Victorine.  They  are  walking  up  and  down  the 
street,  opposite  your  windows. 

Madame.  Well,  beg  them  to  come  in  ;  say  that  I 
have  a  favor  to  ask  of  them — and  take  back  those 
ridiculous  things  to  the  porter. 

Victorine.-  Are  you  serious,  madame  ? 

Madame.  Do  what  I  tell  you.  [  Victorine  takes  out 
hat  and  cane .]  Well,  after  all,  I  only  do  as  every¬ 
one  else  does — I  will  amuse  myself  in  spite  of  the 
despair  in  my  heart.  [Marquis  and  Vicomte  coining 


22 


PLAYS  FOP  PRIVATE  ACTING. 


SCENE  X  VIII. 

Madame  Danisheff — The  Marquis — The 

VlCOMTE. 

Madame.  Come  in,  gentlemen,  I  beg  of  you.  Sit 
down  ;  you  may  do  so  safely  now.  You  may  think 
me  capricious. .  .but  you  know  it  is  a  woman’s  priv¬ 
ilege. 

Vicomte  [aside].  The  cane  is  not  there. 

Marquis  [aside J.  What  does  this  mean?  There 
is  no  hat  here  ! 

Madame.  I  do  not  wish  to  deceive  you  any  longer. 
I  am  alone  at  Monaco .  .  .  Completely  alone,  and  you 
understand  that  at  my  age,  one  needs  a  little  amuse¬ 
ment.  Marquis,  will  you  escort  me  to  the  gaming¬ 
tables  ?  and,  Vicomte,  every  one  says  that  you  are  a 
skillful  player — will  you  teach  me  how  to  place  my 
money  ? 

Vicomte.  Willingly,  madame.  Do  you  wish  to  win  ? 

Madame.  Win.  .  .Why?  Oh,  1  don’t  care. 

Vicomte.  Because  to  win,  you  know,  requires  cour¬ 
age.  Have  you  courage,  madame,  and  coolness  ? 

Madame.  I  have  courage  enough,  God  knows. 


SCENE  XIX. 

The  same — Henri. 

Henri  [coming  in\.  I  beg  your  pardon,  madame. 
I  had  forgotten  to  tell  you  that  I  saw  your  brother 
in  Florence,  and  that  he  begged  me  to  give  you  this 
package. 


HIS  HAT  AND  CANE. 


23 


Madame  [guithout  looking  at  him\.  Thank  you... 
put  it  on  that  table,  if  you  please . .  .  Then,  this  morn¬ 
ing,  gentlemen,  we  will  go  to  the  gaming-tables .  .  .  Only 
allow  me  the  time  to  dress ...  I  am  hardly  fit  to  be 
seen.  Oh,  I  am  crazy  to  gamble  ;  what  emotion  it 
must  give  one  ! 

Marquis.  Unfortunately,  this  day  I  can’t  accom¬ 
pany  you  ;  I  must  make  the  reception  to  my  friend, 
the  Minister  of  Portugal,  who  arrives  just  now  from 
Marseilles. 

Madame.  Very  well,  I  will  go  with  the  Vicomte 
...why  not?  Oh  !  I  hear  there  will  be  a  grand 
entertainment  at  the  club  this  evening  ;  a  celebrated 
prima  donna  is  to  sing.  It  will  be  delightful.  You 
will  get  me  a  ticket,  will  you  not  ?  [Marquis  and 
Vicomte  look  at  each  other ,  emharrassed.\ 

Marquis.  They  are  all  taken — the  tickets. 

Madame.  Oh,  I  think  you  can  find  some,  if  you  try 
very  hard. 

Vicomte.  Utterly  impossible — they  are  very  strict 
— they  only  receive  persons  well  known  in  society. 
They  are  very  select. 

Henri  \who  has  been  standing  in  the  background\. 
Impertinent  scoundrel ! 

Vicomte.  Halloa  !  [Aside.]  The  man  of  the  hat. 
[Aloud.]  What  did  you  say,  sir  ?. .. 

Henri.  Here  is  my  card - 

Vicomte  [reading  card\.  Henri  de  Berard.  What ! 
are  you  Colonel  Berard  the  famous  hunter,  known 
all  over  Africa  and  India  ? 

Henri.  At  your  orders. 


24 


PLAYS  POP  PRIVATE  ACTING. 


Vicomte  [aside\.  The  devil !  [Aloud.]  Very  well, 
sir.  \He  gives  him  his  card. )  Here  is  my  card.  "We 
will  talk  of  this  later.  Now,  madame,  if  you  wish  to 
go  to  the  casino,  I  am  at  your  service.  Shall  I  order 
a  carriage  ? 

Madame.  I  wish  to  know  first  by  what  right  this 
person  presumes  to  act  as  my  protector.  He  is 
nothing  more  than  a  stranger  to  me — a  man  whom 
I  don’t  even  know. 

Henri.  It  is  very  true,  madame,  there  are  rights 
you  have  deprived  me  of,  and  given  to  another, 
happier,  and  no  doubt  worthier  than  I  am.  But  as 
to  the  right  of  defending  you,  that  right  I  will  keep 
as  my  last  and  only  treasure,  and,  by  heaven  !  I  will 
relinquish  it  only  with  my  life. 

Madame.  And  what  will  your  wife  say  ? 

Henri.  You  know  very  well  that  I  have  no  wife. 

Madame.  Henri,  you  have  deceived  me. 

Henri.  Was  I  not  forced  to,  that  I  might  spare  you 
the  avowal  of  your  marriage  ? 

Madame.  My  marriage  ?  To  whom? 

Henri.  How  should  I  know — to  that  gentleman 
who  left  his  hat  and  cane  lying  about  your  room. 

Marquis.  Oh,  I  would  wish  very  much  to  know 
who  is  that  man  that  has  there  his  hat  and  cane. 

Vicomte.  So  would  I.  Do  tell  us  who  this  indi¬ 
vidual  with  the  hat  and  cane  is  ? 

Madame.  What,  Henri!  You,  too... You  didn’t 
understand . .  .  now  I  see  it  all.  [ Rings  hell.  To 
Victor  ine,  who  enters .]  Victorine,  what  have  you 
done  with  the  hat  and  cane  ? 


HIS  HAT  AND  CANE . 


~5 


Victorine.  Madame,  the  porter  has  his  hat  on  his 
head,  and  his  cane  in  his  hand.  He  has  gone  to 
Nice. 

Henri.  Then  .  .  .  ? 

Madame.  First,  I  wish  to  say  to  these  gentlemen, 
that  my  name  is  not  Danisheff  ;  I  have  another  name 
— a  name  so  noble,  that  even  the  Marquis  de  Santa- 
Flora  would  not  be  compromised  by  giving  the  bear¬ 
er  his  arm ...  if  she  would  condescend  to  take  it . . . 

Marquis.  Oh  !  madame  ! . . . 

Madame.  I  confess  it  is  all  my  fault ;  but  when  a 
woman  is  in  despair,  and  does  not  wish  to  show  it — 
however,  I  will  tell  you  my  romance  with  Henri  an¬ 
other  time.  You  begged,  my  dear  friend,  that  on 
your  return,  I  should  meet  you,  not  in  the  world  of 
my  relations,  but  alone  by  the  sea-side,  free  to  enjoy 
our  reunion  without  intruders.  We  could  neither  of 
us  have  foreseen  what  has  happened.  Victorine  has 
made  use  of  instruments  of  defense  which  have 
worked  so  well  that  they  very  nearly  shipwrecked 
our  happiness. 

Vicomte.  I  wait  your  orders,  Colonel. 

Henri.  I  regret  my  hastiness  ;  will  that  satisfy  you  ? 

Vicomte.  Perfectly. 

Marquis.  You  would  permit  me,  illustrious  Colonel, 
sometimes  to  pay  my  court  to  madame  ?  I  cannot 
help .  . .  when  I  see  a  woman  so  charming  ;  it  is  sec¬ 
ond  nature. 

Henri.  Why,  certainly,  Marquis  ;  I  should  be  de¬ 
lighted  ...  if  my  wife  will  allow  it. 

Madame.  Henri !  I  ought  to  be  angry  with  you  for 


26 


PLAYS  POP  PRIVATE  ACTING. 


doubting  me,  but  I  am  so  happy  that  I  give  up  my 
pride. 

Victorine  [to  Vicomte ].  How  much  can  you  win  by 
putting  two  louis  on  number  32  ? 

Vicomte.  You  can  gain  the  price  of  your  ticket  to 
Paris. 


TWO  NEW  PLAYS  FOR  LADIES. 


A  FIGHTING  CHANCE, 

Or,  For  the  Blue  or  the  Gray. 

A  Play  in  Three  Acts,  for  Female  Characters  Only. 

By  DORA  ADELE  SHOEMAKER. 

Eleven  female  characters.  Costumes,  modern  and  military;  scenery, 
three  easy  interiors.  An  agreeable  variation  of  the  usual  theme  of  these 
plays,  the  author  having  succeeded  in  constructing  a  strong  and  interest¬ 
ing  play  without  employing  the  usual  “  long-lost  daughter  ”  as  a  dramatic, 
factor.  The  characters  are  good  and  varied.  Irish  and  Negro  low  comedy 
characters,  a  French  character  part,  a  little  Quaker,  a  German  dialect  part 
and  types  of  girls  from  both  North  and  South  give  an  exceptional  variety 
of  character  interest.  The  story  of  the  piece  is  original,  and  its  interest 
strong  and  well  sustained.  Can' be  recommended  to  the  best  taste. 

Frice  .  .  .  .  .  .  25  Cents. 


SYNOPSIS : 

ACT  I.  —  Green  Arches.  The  color  line.  An  arrival  from  the  North. 
The  password.  Irish  vs.  Negro.  The  little  Quaker.  The  new  pupil.  The 
letter.  A  damaging  witness.  The  Yankee  soldier’s  suit.  Eleanore’s  story. 
Her  word  of  honor.  Rosy’s  apology.  “  A  cup  o’  tay.”  A  French  detective. 
“She  eesyat  you  call  —  ze  spies!”  Suspected. 

ACT  II. —  Eleanore’s  correspondence.  The  underground  route.  “A 
bad  headache.”  Mile,  again.  Bribery  and  corruption.  “  Got  dem  ribbons 
’bout  you,  mabum’zelle  ?  ”  Helen  and  the  “jacks.”  The  Union  spy. 
Mademoiselle’s  mare’s  nest.  Eleanore  challenged.  Suspicious  circum¬ 
stances.  Rosy  rubbernecking.  The  private  post-office.  The  letter.  Elea¬ 
nore  at  bay.  Mile.  Fordet  outwitted.  The  confession.  An  alternative. 
Accused. 

ACT  III.  —  The  midnight  supper.  Madeline  does  police  duty.  Elea¬ 
nore’s  adventure.  Juliet’s  alarm.  “A  ghos’  ob  one  ob  Massa  Linkum’s 
sojers.”  Rosy  reluctant.  The  sleeping  beauty.  A  surprise.  Eleanore 
missing.  “  Something  else  is  gone  too  —  the  Yankee  suit!  ”  Cecile  changes 
sides.  “  Ou’  fam’ly  respec’  courage,  whe’ever  it  is.”  Madame’s  return. 
War  news.  Eleanore’s  father.  Madame’s  choice.  “For  the  Blue  or  the 
Gray?”  Acquitted. 


THE  ADVERTISING  GIRLS 

A  Masque  of  Very  Fly  Leaves  in  Two  Scenes. 

By  AMELIA  SANFORD. 

Nine  female  characters,  and,  if  desired,  a  chorus  of  children.  Scenery, 
unimportant  and  easily  extemporized.  Costumes,  in  imitation  of  familial 
advertising  figures.  This  original  and  amusing  entertainment  cleverly 
introduces  the  group  of  young  women  made  familiar  by  the  advertising 
pages  of  the  magazines  —  The  Washing  Powder  Girl,  The  Frantic-Ameri- 
can  Soup  Girl,  etc.,  in  a  series  of  humorous  scenes  and  musical  numbers. 
It  may  be  regarded  as  a  successor  to  “  The  Peak  Sisters,”  and  is  sure  to 
enjoy  the  same  popularity. 

Price . 15  Cents. 


Sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price,  by 

BAKER,  5  HAMILTON  PLACE,  BOSTON,  MASS. 


LATEST  PLAYS 


A  RANK  DECEPTION. 

A  FARCE  IN  TWO  ACTS. 

By  LILLI  HUGER  SMITH. 

Three  male,  three  female  characters.  Costumes  modern;  scenery 
very  simple  —  can  be  easily  produced  in  a  drawing-room,  as  in  its  original 
performance.  An  admirable  farce,  turning  upon  presumed  incidents  of 
the  Cuban  war,  and  addressed  to  the  very  best  taste.  Its  story  is  cleverly 
imagined  and  told  with  skill  and  ingenuity;  its  characters  are  admirably 
chosen  and  drawn;  its  humor,  which  has  a  strong  Gilbertian  flavor,  is 
abundant  and  original.  It  is  altogether  an  entirely  exceptional  piece  of 
its  class,  and  is  warmly  recommended.  De  Bluster  is  a  capital  part  for  a 
man,  and  all  the  three  ladies  are  very  strong.  An  excellent  acting  play, 
equally  strong  in  good  lines  and  in  telling  situations. 

Price . 15  Cents. 

SYNOPSIS. 

ACT  I  —  Madelina’s  lovers.  “  I  won’t  marry  any  one  who  does  n’t  take 
part  in  this  glorious  war.”  De  Bluster’s  dilemma.  Wheelshaft’s  resolu¬ 
tion.  The  army  contract.  De  Bluster’s  bluff.  Dora’s  mission.  Relief  for 
the  wounded.  The  Red-Cross  nurse.  Defamation  of  character.  A  hero’s 
outfit.  Off  to  the  war. 

ACT  II  —  “Conquering  Hero  Cigars.”  Madelina’s  stocking.  The  war 
over.  Dora’s  return.  De  Bluster’s  “  Tough  Riders.”  Frederick’s  little 
scheme.  Dora’s  discovery.  Mrs.  C.  decorates.  Breaking  the  news.  Wheel- 
shaft  looking  for  gore.  The  “  General’s  ”  arrival.  The  Tough  Rider’s 
story.  The  bubble  breaks.  De  Bluster  busted. 


The  Ladies  of  Cranford. 

A  Sketch  of  English  Village  Life  Fifty  Years  Ago. 

IN  THREE  ACTS. 

By  MARY  BARNARD  HORNE, 

Thirteen  female  characters.  Scenery  very  easy ;  costumes  important, 
but  not  very  difficult  to  manage.  Dramatizations  of  Mrs.  Gaskell’s  quaint 
and  humorous  tale  have  been  very  popular  the  last  two  seasons,  and  this, 
the  latest  one,  is  believed  to  be  also  the  best.  The  nterest  of  the  piece  is, 
of  course,  chiefly  in  its  characters  and  their  humors,  but  Mrs.  Horne  has 
contrived  to  extract  a  sufficient  dramatic  interest  from  the  suggestions  of 
the  story,  and  has  put  its  amusing  incidents  upon  the  stage  with  admir¬ 
able  tact  and  skill.  This  is  a  valuable  addition  to  the  number  of  high- 
class  plays  for  ladies,  and  is  strongly  recommended. 

Price . 25  Cents. 

SYNOPSIS. 

ACT  I  —  Miss  Matty’s  parlor.  Economy  a  la  Cranford.  Courting 
under  difficulties.  A  point  of  etiquette.  Miss  Matty’s  romance.  A  long- 
lost  brother.  A  cow  in  flannels.  Afternoon  tea.  The  bank  failure. 

ACT  II  —  Miss  Matty  shop-keeping.  “Licensed  to  sell  tea.”  A  mar¬ 
riage  in  Cranford.  A  customer.  The  Great  Llama  of  Thibet.  A  gentle¬ 
man  to  see  Miss  Jessie.  Business  methods.  A  shock  to  Cranford.  Miss 
Matty’s  equanimity. 

ACT  III  —  A  card  party.  The  seat  of  honor.  Jessie’s  engagement. 
The  Hon.  Mrs.  Jamieson.  Carlo  and  the  cream.  .Sinking  the  shop.  Mrs. 
Jamieson’s  compliment.  Good  news.  Breaking  it  gently.  “  Peter’s  come 
back.”  A  man  in  Cranford  at  last.  Prosperity. 


Sent,  postpaid ,  on  receipt  of  price ,  by 

BAKER,  5  HAMILTON  PLACE,  BOSTON,  MASS. 


FOR  PLATFORM  OR  VAUDEVILLE. 


PO’  WHITE  TRASH 

AND  OTHER  ONE  ACT  DRAMAS 

By  EVELYN  GREENLEAF  SUTHERLAND. 

This  volume  supplies  a  genuine  and  wide-spread  demand  of  professional 
and  amateur  players,  and  of  public  readers  and  teachers  of  elocution,  for  one- 
act  plays  to  be  used  at  benefits,  in  vaudeville,  at  performances  of  amateur 
dramatic  clubs,  and  on  the  reading  platform.  Such  plays  must  be  of  novel 
theme,  and  of  a  certain  distinction  of  literary  style.  Moreover,  they  must  be 
“  playable,”  which  so  many  literary  compositions  in  dramatic  form  are  not. 
All  these  qualities  Mrs.  Sutherland’s  plays  abundantly  possess.  Of  those  in  the 
present  volume,  for  instance,  “A  Bit  of  Instruction”  has  been  successfully 
used  in  vaudeville  for  many  weeks  by  Mr.  Henry  Woodruff  ;  its  leading  part 
having  been  played  also,  on  other  occasions,  by  such  well  known  professional 
artists  as  Mr.  Joseph  Holland  and  Mr.  Robert  Edeson.  “  Po’  White  Trash,”  the 
tragic  genre  study  from  which  the  volume  takes  its  name,  has  been  played  in 
Boston  and  New  York  by  Mr.  Woodruff  ;  and  in  San  Francisco  and  elsewhere  in 
the  West,  on  professional  tours,  by  the  Frawley  Company.  “  Rohan  the  Silent,” 
written  for  the  late  Alexander  Salvini,  was  by  him  most  successfully  produced 
at  the  Tremont  Theatre,  Boston.  All  but  two  of  the  other  plays  have  had 
frequent  public  presentation. 

The  Plays,  nine  in  number,  are  now  for  the  first  time  made  accessible  to 
the  acting  and  reading  public.  They  are  fully  protected  by  copyright  from 
dramatic  performance,  save  with  the  sanction  of  the  publishers  —  which  is 
obtainable  by  application  to  them  or  their  agents,  Walter  H.  Baker  &  Co., 
and  by  the  payment  of  a  moderate  royalty.  Selections  from  the  plays,  of  course, 
may  be  used  at  will  by  public  readers,  without  royalty. 

PRICE . $1*25. 


CONTENTS. 


Po’  White  Trash.  f<Act.  4  m.  4  f. 
In  Far  Bohemia.  1  Act.  1  m.  2  f . 
The  End  of  the  Way.  1  Act.  1  m.  if. 
A  Comedie  Royall.  1  Act.  4  m.  2  f . 


A  Bit  of  Instruction.  1  Act.  2  m. 

A  Song  at  the  Castle.  1  Act.  6m.  2f. 
Rohan  the  Silent.  1  Act.  8  m.  2  f . 
At  the  Barricade.  1  Act.  5  m.  6  f. 


Galatea  of  the  Toy-Shop.  1  Act.  1  m.  if. 


A  DIFFERENCE  IN  CLOCKS* 

<A  Sketch  in  One  Scene ♦ 

By  ETHEL  LIVINGSTON* 

One  male,  one  female  character.  Costumes,  rustic  ;  scenery,  an  easy  inte¬ 
rior.  A  capital  comedy  scene  for  two  elderly  people,  telling  the  satisfactory 
ending  of  a  life  long  courtship.  An  admirable  character  sketch,  full  of  whim¬ 
sical  humor.  Plays  twenty  minutes. 


Sent,  postpaid ,  on  receipt  of  price ,  by 

BAKER,  5  HAMILTON  PLACE,  BOSTON,  MASS. 


LATEST  PLAYS 


The  Old  Maids’  Convention. 

AN  ENTERTAINMENT  IN  ONE  SCENE. 

By  LAURA  M.  PARSONS. 

Author  of  “Jerusha  Dow’s  Family  Album,”  “The  District 
School  at  Blueberry  Corners,”  Etc. 


One  male,  twenty  female  characters  and  specialties.  Costumes  eccen¬ 
tric;  scenery  unimportant;  can  be  produced  on  a  platform  without  any. 
This  is  an  excellent  version  of  a  widely  popular  entertainment  which  has 
long  existed  in  manuscript,  but  is  now  for  the  first  time  offered  in  print. 
It  is  practically  for  all  female  characters,  since  Prof.  Pinkerton,  its  one 
man,  may  be  represented  by  a  lady,  if  desired.  “Pinkerton’s  Electric 
Transform(h)er  ”  is  a  marvelous  invention,  whatever  the  sex  of  its  dis¬ 
coverer,  and  is  capable  of  creating  great  amusement.  This  entertainment, 
of  which  it  is  a  feature,  is  brightly  and  humorously  written,  and  moves 
along  briskly  to  a  laughable  conclusion.  Lots  of  good  characters  and 
opportunity  for  specialties.  A  worthy  successor  to  the  popular  “  Prof. 
Baxter’s  Great  Invention.”  Plays  an  hour  and  a  half  with  specialties. 

Price,  ....  35  Cents. 

SYNOPSIS. 

Scene. —  The  Old  Maids’  Matrimonial  Club.  The  Club  in  executive 
session.  Quotations.  An  unpopular  sentiment.  The  Secretary’s  report. 
The  report  of  the  Treasurer.  “  Candy  kisses.”  The  Lookout  Committee. 
“  Widower  Goodhope.”  A  bachelor  by  the  name  of  Rigby.  “  I  don’t  care 
if  he  hasn’t  a  dollar.”  A  few  suggestions  toward  the  propagation  of 
matrimony.  The  club  in  debate.  A  literary  interlude.  Prof.  Pinkerton’s 
advent.  A  scientific  exposition.  Testimonials.  “  Before  using  your 
Transform(h)er  I  was  totally  blind,  and  now  l  can  see  my  finish.”  The 
great  invention  at  work.  “  Blonde  or  brunette  ?  ”  Old  maids  made  new. 
A  great  success.  A  difficult  case.  Somewhat  overdone.  “  The  machine 
can  make  no  mistake.”  A  hard  problem.  “  I  want  to  be  a  man.”  The  Pro¬ 
fessor  phazed  but  not  daunted.  “  Drink  the  stuff  and  pile  in.”  An  explosion 
—  of  laughter. 


POPPING  BY  PROXY. 

A  FARCE  IN  ONE  ACT, 

By  O.  E.  YOUNG. 


Two  male,  four  female  characters.  Scenery  easy,  costumes  rustic.  This 
is  a  very  amusing,  if  somewhat  athletic  farce,  suitable  for  the  young  and 
robust,  and  likely  to  be  popular  among  people  who  rejoice  in  practical 
joking  and  high  animal  spirits.  It  is  distinctly  not  a  drawing-room  play, 
but  is  full  of  good,  broad,  boisterous  fun,  and  tells  a  very  entertaining 
story.  Plays  forty-five  minutes. 

Price,  ....  15  Cents. 


Sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price,  by 

BAKER,  5  HAMILTON  PLACE,  BOSTON,  MASS. 


A  NEW  PLAY  FOR  FEMALE  CHARACTERS. 


A  Detective  in  Petticoats. 

cA  Comedy  in  Three  cActs . 

By  SARAH  FOLSOM  ENEBUSKE. 

Seven  female  characters,  and  supernumerary  guests,  etc.,  if  desired  A 
novelty  in  plays  for  female  characters,  a  melodramatic  interest  being  intro¬ 
duced  by  the  character  of  Georgie  Napper,  the  detective,  whose  pursuit  of 
Burglar  Bill  under  his  society  disguises  provides  a  strong  framework  to  some 
clever  pictures  of  feminine  life  and  character.  Originally  produced  by  students 
of  Kadclifle  College.  Plays  two  hours. 

PRICE . 25  CENTS* 


SYNOPSIS : 

Act  I.  —  Dressing  for  the  ball.  A  college  girl.  “Speaking  of  science.’1 
The  mysterious  letter.  A  bunch  of  red  roses.  Octavia  changes  her  mind  and 
her  gown.  An  arrival.  The  Baroness.  A  private  detective.  “  Burglar  Bill.” 
Georgie  accepts  the  part.  Off  to  the  ball.  “  On  his  track  at  last.” 

Act  II.  —  At  the  ball.  “The  lady  with  the  big  bokay.”  Beading  back¬ 
wards.  Count  Otto  von  Walden.  Mistaken  identity.  The  wrong  lady.  Georgie 
in  a  fix.  “A  dark,  foreign-looking  man.”  Complications.  Lost  by  a  neck. 
After  the  ball.  “  Missed  him  again.” 

Act  III.  —  Afternoon  tea.  The  detective  in  society.  “  You  would  call  her 
ill-bred  if  she  hadn’t  a  title.”  Buttonholed.  Georgie  has  a  rival.  An  amateur 
investigator.  Octavia’s  admirer.  On  the  scent.  Engaged  to  a  burglar.  “Send 
for  the  police  !  ”  The  key-hole.  The  wrong  man.  Caught  at  last.  Confessions. 
The  real  Baroness.  “  Beware  of  imitations.” 


A  SCRATCH  RACE. 

A  Farce  in  One  cAd. 

By  WALT*  MAKEE* 

Three  male,  two  female  characters.  Costumes,  modern  evening  ;  scenery, 
unimportant.  A  bright  little  half-hour  piece,  suitable  for  parlor  performance, 
relating  with  plenty  of  humor  a  sharp  practical  lesson  given  by  a  clever  girl  to 
two  over-confident  suitors. 

PRICE  *  * _ 15  CENTS* 


Sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price,  by 

BAKER,  5  HAMILTON  PLACE,  BOSTON,  MASS. 


A  NEW  CANTATA  fOR  CHILDREN 


A  DREAM  of  the  FLOWERS 

Consisting  of  Songs,  Choruses,  Recitations, 

Dialogues,  Etc. 

By  NELLIE  E.  CASE. 

For  fourteen  little  girls,  one  little  boy  and  chorus.  Costumes  fanciful 
but  easily  gotten  up.  No  scenery  needed,  though  it  can  be  employed  to 
advantage.  This  cantata  primarily  celebrates  May  Day,  introducing  a 
May-pole  Dance,  but  it  is  good  and  not  unsuitable  for  performance  at 
any  season.  It  is  published  complete  with  music,  pretty  and  very  easy. 
This  piece  is  the  work  of  an  experienced  teacher,  familiar  with  the  needs 
and  limitations  of  children,  and  is  offered  with  confidence. 

Price . 25  Cents. 


A  NEW  EDITION. 


BALLADS  IN  BLACK. 

A  Series  of  Readings  to  be  Produced  as  Shadow 

Pantomimes. 

With  full  directions  for  representation.  Illustrated  with  fifty  full- 
page  drawings  in  silhouette,  by  J.  F.  Goodrich. 

CONTENTS : 

In  Pawn.  A  Shadow  Pantomime  in  Four  Acts  and  a  Prologue;  eight 
illustrations. 

Drink.  A  Temperance  Shadow  Pantomime;  eight  illustrations. 
Orpheus,  the  Organ-Grinder.  A  Musical  Shadow  Pantomime;  six 
illustrations. 

Anonymous.  A  Nameless  Narrative;  six  illustrations. 

Driggs  and  his  Double.  A  Pantomime  Paradox;  eight  illustrations. 
Cinderella.  A  new  version  of  an  old  story;  eight  illustrations. 

Price,  paper  covers  ...  50  Cents. 


We  have  a  limited  number  of  these  pantomimes,  published  separately, 
which  we  can  furnish  at  15  cents  per  copy  until  the  edition  is  exhausted. 
Cinderella  is  quite  out  of  print  and  cannot  be  supplied  save  in  the  50- 
cent  book. 


THE  MAGISTRATE. 


A  Farce  in  Three  Acts.  By  Arthur  W. 
Pinero.  Twelve  male,  four  female  char- 

"  - -  acters.  Costumes,  modern ;  scenery,  all 

interior.  The  merits  of  this  excellent  and  amusing  piece,  one  of  the  most  popu¬ 
lar  of  its  author’s  plays,  are  well  attested  by  long  and  repeated  runs  in  the 
principal  American  theatres.  It  is  of  the  higlrest  class  of  dramatic  writing,  and 
is  uproariously  funny,  and  at  the  same  time  unexceptionable  in  tone.  Its  entire 
suitability  for  amateur  performance  has  been  shown  by  hundreds  of  such  pro¬ 
ductions  from  manuscript  during  the  past  three  years.  Plays  two  hours  and 
a  half.  (1892.) 


THE  NOTORIOUS 
MRS.  EBBSMITH. 


A  Drama  in  Four  Acts.  By  Arthur  W. 
Pinero.  Eight  male  and  five  female  charac¬ 
ters  ;  scenery,  all  interiors.  This  is  a  “  prob¬ 
lem”  play  continuing  the  series  to  which  “  The 
Profligate  ”  and“The  Second  Mrs.  Tanqueray  ” 
belong,  and  while  strongly  dramatic,  and  intensely  interesting  is  not  suited  for 
amateur  performance.  It  is  recommended  for  Reading  Clubs.  (1895.) 


THE  PROFLIGATE.  I 


costumes,  modern.  This  is 


A  Play  in  Four  Acts.  By  Arthur  TV.  Pine¬ 
ro.  Seven  male  and  five  female  characters. 
Scenery,  three  interiors,  rather  elaborate 


a  piece  of  serious  interest,  powerfully  dramatic  in 
movement,  and  tragic  in  its  event.  An  admirable  play,  but  not  suited  for  ama¬ 
teur  performance.  (1892.) 


THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS* * 


ern 


A  Farce  in  Three  Acts.  By  Arthur 
W.  Pinero.  Nine  male,  seven  fe¬ 
male  characters.  Costumes,  mod- 
scenery,  three  interiors,  easily  arranged.  This  ingenious  and  laughable 
farce  was  played  by  Miss  Rosina  Yokes  during  her  last  season  in  America  with 
great  success.  Its  plot  is  amusing,  its  action  rapid  and  full  of  incident,  its  dia¬ 
logue  brilliant,  and  its  scheme  of  character  especially  rich  in  quaint  and  humor¬ 
ous  types.  The  Hon.  Vere  Queckett  and  Peggy  are  especially  strong.  The  piece 
is  in  all  respects  suitable  for  amateurs.  (1894.) 


THE  SECOND 
MRS*  TANQUERAY* 


A  Play  in  Four  Acts.  By  Arthur  W. 
Pinero.  Eight  male  and  five  female  char¬ 
acters.  Costumes,  modern ;  scenery,  three 
interiors.  This  well-known  and  powerful 
play  is  not  well  suited  for  amateur  per¬ 
formance.  It  is  offered  to  Mr.  Pinero’s  admirers  among  the  reading  public  in 
answer  to  the  demand  which  its  wide  discussion  as  an  acted  play  has  created. 
(1894.)  Also  in  Cloth,  $1.00. 


SWEET  LAVENDER* 


A  Comedy  in  Three  Acts.  Bv  Arthur 
TV.  Pinero.  Seven  male  and  four  female 
characters.  Scene,  a  single  interior,  the 
same  for  all  three  acts  ;  costumes,  modern  and  fashionable.  This  well  known 
and  popular  piece  is  admirably  suited  to  amateur  players,  by  whom  it  has  been 
often  given  during  the  last  few  years.  Its  story  is  strongly  sympathetic,  and  its 
comedy  interest  abundant  and  strong.  (1893.) 


THE  TIMES* 


* 


A  Comedy  in  Four  Acts.  By  Arthur  TV.  Pinero.  Six 
male  and  seven  female  characters.  Scene,  a  single  ele- 

1  gant  interior ;  costumes,  modern  and  fashionable.  An 
entertaining  piece,  of  strong  dramatic  interest  and  admirable  satirical  humor. 
(1892.) 

TTn?  \T7T7  ATTT7P  CT7V  I  A  Comedy  in  Three  Acts.  By  Arthur 

*1^-*  W  J-uVAC.iv  oHA*  I  yy  Pinero.  Eight  male  and  eight  female 

- -  ■'  ■■■  J  characters.  Costumes,  modern ;  scenery, 

two  interiors,  not  difficult.  This  very  amusing  comedy  was  a  popular  feature  of 
the  repertoire  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Kenaal  in  this  country.  It  presents  a  plot  of 
strong  dramatic  interest,  and  its  incidental  satire  of  “  Woman’s  Rights”  em¬ 
ploys  some  admirably  humorous  characters,  and  inspires  many  very  clever  lines. 
Its  leading  characters  are  unusually  even  in  strength  and  prominence,  which 
makes  it  a  very  satisfactory  piece  for  amateurs.  (1894.) 


&  The  Plays  of  Henrik  Ibsen. 


*  _  - 

/ft  .  Zdtted,  with  Critical  and  Biographical  Introduction, 


This  series  is  offered  to  meet  a  growing  demand  for  tlie  plays  of  this  well- 
abused  and  hotly-discussed  writer,  whose  influence  over  the  contemporary  drama 
is  enormous  even  if  his  vogue  in  the  American  theatre  be  still  regrettably 
small.  These  plays  are  intended  for  the  reading  public,  but  are  recommended 
for  the  use  of  literary  societies  and  reading  clubs,  and  somewhat  diffidently 
suggested  to  dramatic  clubs,  as  providing  unconventional  but  vigorously  acta¬ 
ble  material.  As  a  dramatist  Ibsen  is  absolutely  “  actor-tight,”  and  has  written 
more  successful  parts  and  inspired  more  “  hits  ”  than  any  of  his  more  popular 
contemporaries.  This  edition  is  printed  in  large,  clear  type,  well  suited  for  the 
use  of  reading  clubs.  The  following  titles  are  ready. 


A  DOLL'S  HOUSE. 


THE  PILLARS  OF  SOCIETY. 


female  characters. 


/'LT-TflC'T'C  I  A  Drama  in  Three  Acts.  Translated  by  William 
x  Archer.,  Three  male,  twro  female  characters. 

- 1  Price,  35  cents. 

ROSMERSHOLM. 


/IS 
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VI/ 
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fey  EDMUND  GOSSE. 


A  Play  in  Three  Acts.  Translated  by  Wil¬ 
liam  Archer.  Three  male,  four  female  char¬ 
acters,  and  three  children.  Price,  25  cents. 


A  Play  in  Four  Acts. 
Translated  by  William 
Archer.  Ten  male,  nine 
Price,  25  cents. 


A  Drama  in  Four  Acts.  Translated  by  M. 
Carmichael.  Four  male,  two  female  charac¬ 
ters.  Price,  25  cents. 


THE  LADY  FROM  THE  SEA. 


characters. 

AN  ENEMY  OF  SOCIETY. 


ters. 

THE  WILD  DUCK. 


THE  YOUNG  MEN’S  LEAGUE. 


male,  six  female  characters. 

HEDDA  GABLER. 


THE  MASTER  BUILDER. 


female  characters. 


vl 


A  Drama  in  Five  Acts. 
Translated  by  ClaraBell. 
Five  male,  three  female 
Price,  35  cents. 


A  Play  in  Five  Acts.  Trans¬ 
lated  by  William  Archer. 
Nine  male,  two  female  charac- 
.  Price,  25  cents. 


A  Drama  in  Five  Acts.  Translated  by  E. 
M  Aveling.  Twelve  male,  three  female 
characters.  Price,  35  cents. 


A  Play  in  Five  Acts. 
Translated  by  Henry 
Carstarphen.  Twelve 
Price,  35  cents. 


A  Drama  in  Four  Acts.  Translated  by 
Edmund  Gosse.  Three  male,  four  female 
characters.  Price,  50  cents. 


A  Play  in  Three  Acts.  Trans¬ 
lated  by  Edmund  Gosse  and  Wi  l- 
liam  Archer.  Four  male,  three 

Price,  50  cents. 


S.  4.  PARKMILL  4.  CO.,  PRINTERS,  BOSTON,  U.S.A. 


